Random Encounters
by SecondSilk
Summary: Series of independent pairing ficlets written for the Buffyverse1000.
1. Andrew and Xander

This fic contains a series of independent ficlets written for the Buffyverse1000 community on 

Andrew/Xander

Rated PG13, I think.

Owned by Joss Whedon et al.

There is also a longer, more Xander study version of this idea on 

It was a house full of Slayers, girls who liked to practice fighting and killing. Xander and Andrew more often than not decamped to the front sitting room. Giles only used it for important meetings, and the Slayers weren't allowed in without supervision.

They spent New Year's Eve arguing about various episodes, and New Year's Night swapping stories, until ten o'clock when Andrew had promptly fallen asleep on Xander shoulder. Xander was too tired to move and so woke with a crick neck, cold feet and a whelming realisation that he hadn't been so close to anything so warm as Andrew was in a very long time.

They ended up sharing after the fourth time the ended up asleep in front of the television, because winter in England was terrifically cold. Nobody had questioned it, so Xander stopped preparing excuses. He thought that had been his mistake, when one day he grabbed Andrew by the shoulders, stared at him, and saw quiet understanding.

Xander hadn't stopped to think when he kissed Andrew. They had been arguing about something silly, and it was all Xander could think of to shut him up. But he hadn't tried to start thinking when Andrew kissed him back.

Instead he'd started to undo buttons, and explore pale skin. Andrew responded eagerly. It seemed he knew exactly what to do to get just the right response from Xander. Xander moaned quietly when Andrew took the lead and pulled him closer.

They woke late in the morning, tired, warm and relaxed. And didn't need to say anything to each other.


	2. Dawn and Drusilla

Dawn/ Drusilla

Rated PG 13, again, I think. This is after all slash, and some people have a problem with that.

Owned by Joss Whedon.

**… … …**

Dawn was the one left to clear up the yard after practice. She was trying to find the last of the arrows in the fading light when she felt movement behind.

She turned just in time to see dark hair and a flash of red before she was pushed against the side of the house. She recognised the elegantly dressed woman and felt her insides clench. Dawn couldn't more. 'That would be the thrall,' part of her said. But the rest of her was staring in Drusilla's deep, brown eyes.

"They are all gone," Drusilla said, accusingly.

Dawn swallowed, trying to keep her guilt at bay. Buffy had gone, and Willow and Xander were trying to keep the house together in her absence. Giles had retreated into himself days ago, and Faith refused to see her. Even Andrew was away — on the mission with Spike.

"The witch stole Daddy, and the Slayer got my Spike. Grandmum," she said wistfully, "My daughter had her own baby. Miss Edith was so upset."

Dawn saw her own grief and pain mirrored in the vampire's eyes. Drusilla moved half a step closer and gripped Dawn's shoulders.

"Cold," Dawn said.

The reality imposed itself on Dawn's mind. She tried to pull away. Vampire strength not for nothing, Drusilla didn't seem to notice. Dawn tried to push her away.

"Warm." Drusilla murmured.

She sounded surprised and peered at Dawn more closely.

"You're not here either," Drusilla whispered. "Miss Edith told me."

Fear colder than Drusilla's touch ran down Dawn's spine and she tried to make her self smaller. But Drusilla wouldn't let her, however Dawn moved, she followed, watching her intently.

"Please, don't eat me," Dawn pleaded.

She hated how her voice cracked, she wished Buffy were back to save her, she was so angry that none of the potentials had noticed a vampire in the garden.

Drusilla giggled. One hand cupped Dawn's cheek, the other pressed a finger to her nose. But the look in the vampire's dark eyes was anything but childish.

"You're not for eating," she said.

Dawn shivered and closed her eyes. They opened again when Drusilla pressed death cold lips to hers and stepped closer. So this is what it feels like? Dawn thought. Maybe she couldn't really blame Buffy after all.

Drusilla moved closer and Dawn's hand slipped from her shoulders to circle her ribs cage. Drusilla moaned quietly as she leant in to kiss Dawn deeper. Dawn felt her arms wrap around the other woman and knew that it wouldn't be long before they were both warm again.


	3. Giles and Merrick

I have found that I cannot write anything more explicit than this. And I cannot write without some reference to character.

**… … …**

Giles never asked Buffy about her first Watcher. At first it didn't seem fair to bring up what had to be bad memories when she was just beginning to accept her duty again. Later there were too many other things to talk about, and by the time they left Sunnydale for good he knew that it was too late.

So Buffy never knew that Giles had known Merrick, never knew that it was Giles who had said goodbye at airport, that it was with Giles that Merrick had spent his last night in London.

Merrick had always been quiet at school. The elder Mr Giles had always spoken highly of the elder Mr Merrick, but Giles always thought that Merrick was a bit slow, a bit too good. When he landed the job of going to America to find the lost Slayer, Ripper came back in a full flood of jealousy.

They had thrown a leaving party, of course. The entire American contingent was on probation for having missed the Slayer in the first place, and Merrick was going to be the only representative.

"Congratulations, Merrick," Giles had said, towards the end of the evening, rolling the 'r's.

Merrick had looked startled, and a little uncomfortable. Ripper grinned, the predatory grin Ethan had taught him. Merrick tried to shuffle away, but Ripper grabbed him and dragged him outside. He was surprised, and pleased to see resistance and strength in the other man's eyes. This is what Watchers were supposed to be like.

Giles wasn't sure if it was Ripper, wanting to own some part of guarding the Slayer, or Rupert, wanting to send some part of himself to America, but he leant forward to press his lips against Merrick's.

It was Merrick who kissed back, his nervousness seeking an outlet in any activity that could distract him. It was Merrick who began undoing buttons, who led the way back to his flat and pushed Giles against the wall of his bedroom.


	4. Fred and Lorne

Disclaimers: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel belong to Joss Whedon et al.

* * *

She wasn't a particularly special or important person. He had read that the first time she had sung for him. Rescuing her from Pylea had been an important thing to do, but her part was minor. She would be there at the sidelines of the great events, while others moved past her.

It had been a quiet night in Caritas, and seeing Cordy and Fred had been a pleasant surprise. Fred's singing was above average for his general patronage, and he watched her with half an eye as Cordelia talked.

Her future was good: some pain, of course, and betrayal, but nothing that would destroy her; anger, but that was necessary to her growth; and she would find happiness and that joy in life that many people seemed to miss.

But he found himself watching her and reading her more often. There was a play in the colours of her aura. It contrasted sometimes with the blocky restlessness of the way she moved, but at other times it seemed to mirror that coltish joy that was so much of everything she did.

Lorne knew she wasn't his, and he didn't want her, not really. Her skin was too pink, to begin with. But her presence was enough to keep him wherever she was.

When she and Wesley finally got their act together, the Watcher's aura began to mirror hers. And Lorne wondered if he, too, had come by some of that joy.

She sang for him at the last.

"You make me happy," was Wesley's thread in the fabric.

And Lorne had turned, caught the last flash of brilliant interwoven colour before the curtain was drawn. He had known that it was the end, that he would never see her in all her beauty again. No one would. But still he had hoped, and then he had stayed, and then he had fought, both Angel, in his anger, and the bad-guys, in his despair.

Now it was all over. He could leave, and he would, with a dead body in his wake and the memory of the greatest joy in his heart.


End file.
